


stranded (in the middle of nowhere)

by fab_ia



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Hitchhiking, M/M, Mission Gone Wrong, Swearing, car theft, kepler's incessant rambling, wonder twins, you know! the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_ia/pseuds/fab_ia
Summary: "Kepler smiled.It got weird after that."a mission goes wrong, they steal a truck, jacobi's arm is in the suitcase and he hopes nobody looks





	stranded (in the middle of nowhere)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [torrentialTriages](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torrentialTriages/gifts).



> hey! this fic is part of the Wolf 359 Reverse Big Bang and is inspired by the art of the wonderful @drakanekurashiki! (http://drakanekurashiki.tumblr.com/post/174054030314/mountains-in-my-manitoba-impossible-manitoba-is)

The day had started well, in all fairness.

 

They’d been making good progress on the mission, with Kepler almost smiling as he’d rested an arm on Jacobi’s shoulder in the morning, touch lingering a few moments longer than it had when he’d done the same to Maxwell- a sight that, when Maxwell had connected the dots to the red marks on Jacobi’s wrist, earned a gagging sound and mimed vomiting.

 

“Eat something that’s gone bad, Doctor?” Kepler asked, raising an eyebrow as Jacobi leaned further into his side with a wide grin and flushed cheeks. “I’m sure we could find someone with medical know-how who can check you out-”

 

“Nope!”

 

Kepler smiled.

 

It got weird after that.

 

Until Kepler had pulled him into the hallway and out of the lab in the building they were breaking into, Jacobi had been doing just _fine_ on the mission, which he was shouting as Kepler pulled him up, into his arms, and down the hall. Jacobi had only barely gotten to his own feet again and was opening his mouth to argue when the bomb he’d been defusing went off.

 

Ten pounds of C4.

 

Jacobi’s arm- his wonderful, metallic, custom-made arm- hadn’t stood a chance. Neither would he, had Kepler not pulled him away from the blast. Foolish, dumbass idiot that he is, Jacobi had lifted his arm to shield their faces from any debris; it had taken the force of any damage that would have sliced their faces up or turned them charcoal-black.

 

The heat had totally fried the wiring- badly enough that Maxwell couldn’t salvage any of it, with the limited tools she’d brought with her. Afterwards, after dragging themselves far enough away from the wreckage that they wouldn’t be associated with it in any way, shape or form, Maxwell rests a hand on Jacobi’s shoulder and confesses, voice soft in a way that she doesn’t usually manage, that she’s not sure she could have done _anything_ with it.

 

 

It takes somewhere between thirty minutes and an hour before Kepler, face twisted in a scowl, finally turns from the road they had wound up at the side of with a disgusted noise and drops to the ground, crossing his arms and leaning sideways against the suitcases, just to Jacobi's left after moving there “to get a better vantage point”. Closing his eyes helped make his face look the smallest but softer- Jacobi could vouch for that, glancing up from the map to stare for a moment.

 

“This is pointless,” Kepler says. “I never asked to be a cynic, but this is the most pointless thing we've ever done. There’s nothing out here, that facility was completely pointless and absolutely-”

 

“Pointless?” Maxwell guesses.

 

“Hm.”

 

Having snatched the map from Jacobi some ten minutes previously, Maxwell peers at it intently, tapping her foot as she leans closer and traces a road with a finger. Unburdened by the stress of trying to work out what they were doing, Jacobi hesitates for only a second before he sits next to Kepler on the ground, forgetting his uneven weight for a moment. Reaching out to stop himself falling doesn't help, but the warm weight of Kepler's hand on his shoulder does.

 

“One arm,” Kepler reminds him quietly, as Maxwell quiets them with a glare. “Remember?”

 

“Your fault,” Jacobi mutters. “It's totally your fault. The mission was to-”

 

“You almost got yourself _blown up_ ,” Kepler points out, gritting his teeth. “What was the bigger sacrifice, losing your arm or losing _yourself_?”

 

“I’ve already lost my arm once,” Jacobi pouts. “It’s _charred_ . It’s in a suitcase and it’s _charred_ , sir.”

 

Kepler only glares at him again, expression betraying irritation- Jacobi’s sullen bitterness, even though Kepler had clearly saved his life, is grating. It burns up Kepler’s already short fuse, and his lip curls into a frown.

 

“You could have _died_ , Jacobi.”

 

“At least I'd have died with an arm.”

 

“I'm _so glad_ you have your priorities straight. Really, I am. _So_ happy. About that.”

 

Jacobi gets the feeling that he's really not all that happy about it.

 

He's also got the feeling that he doesn't care all that much.

 

After another moment of glaring at each other, Kepler sighs and looks up to Maxwell, hopeful, a little desperate. “Please,” he says, voice as flat as he can force it to be. “Tell me we can walk to the nearest town with a car hire place?”

 

“Eh,” she says. “Yeah? I'm going to say yes. Probably. It's more a question of where, exactly, that town is. I have _really_ bad signal.”

 

Maxwell braces herself for a cutting comment about how she should have been more organised or prepared more carefully for this scenario, but none comes. Instead, Kepler goes back to squinting into the distance, face dark.

 

“Sir?” she asks tentatively.

 

“We’ll hitchhike,” he declares, jumping to his feet with a forced grin on his face- the false nature of it evident in the way that it doesn't quite reach his eyes or get rid of the irritation in his eyes. “There's a truck coming. Let's go, team!”

 

“This wouldn't have been necessary if you'd just let me get free myself,” Jacobi says in a sing-song voice as Maxwell helps drag him to his feet. “I’d have been fine. Like- I’d have been burnt a bit-”

 

“Grilled, really,” Maxwell says dryly as she stretches out an arm to flag down the truck Kepler had pointed out. “I can’t be sure, but I’m _fairly_ certain Kepler wouldn’t want a chargrilled Jacobi in his bed.”

 

“He’s got a broken one,” Jacobi mutters.

 

To his right, Kepler rolls his eyes, muttering something dark about how his mouth was clearly still working, at any rate, as he drags himself up and pulls the suitcase closer to him.

 

“So,” he says. “Let’s go.”

 

So, as ordered, they go.

 

In hindsight, Jacobi knows he probably shouldn’t have enjoyed it quite so much when Kepler held a gun to the driver’s head and ordered him to get out of the car on pain of death, but he is, after all, only a man- a man that thinks Kepler’s arms look _stunning_ with his sleeves rolled up like they are. It’s hot.

 

“Don’t say that when I can hear you,” Maxwell says, glaring at him as she hauls a suitcase into the seat beside him. “We’re going home, please just- bone in his office, I don’t care.”

 

Kepler groans, leaning forward and resting his head against the steering wheel as Jacobi makes an offended noise, glaring at her. Maxwell rolls her eyes, slamming the door in the back and climbing in the front, where she turns to stick her tongue out at Jacobi before turning to look out of the windshield.

 

There’s a beat of silence.

 

“Uh. Sir?”

 

Kepler groans, slowly sitting up and staring at Maxwell. “Please, for the love of- anything, anything you find holy, never discuss Jacobi and I’s private life in front of both of us again. _Ever._ Especially don’t use the word ‘bone’ with regards to it- what are you, Maxwell, twelve?”

 

“No, sir,” she says. “Twenty-six.”

 

“Ha,” Jacobi snorts. “Child!”

 

“Shut your _mouth_ , Jacobi.”

 

Jacobi snaps his mouth shut. Kepler starts the car. Maxwell snorts and opens her mouth to make a quip before quickly reconsidering.

 

They drive to Selkirk in almost-silence, besides the snoring that comes from Jacobi at around the ten-minute mark, as he leans against the window and quickly falls asleep. Three minutes later, Maxwell starts to complain- Kepler tunes it out to a state that it’s only white noise as he drives, eventually pulling up outside a hotel and turning off the engine with a sigh.

 

“I wasn’t asleep,” Jacobi slurs as he sits upright, going to rub his eyes with his right hand before grimacing. “Totally awake, yep. Never been more conscious.”

 

“You snore,” Maxwell scowls.

 

“Shut up,” Jacobi spits. “I’m badass. I don’t sleep in cars.”

 

“Yes, Jacobi, you do,” Kepler says. “All the time.”

 

“Well,” he says, amused. “The more you know, right?”

 

His comment earns a sigh from Kepler, who shakes his head and storms towards the door of the hotel and then presumably the front desk to haggle them a room for the night, after some combination of flirting with the receptionist, threatening the receptionist and then possibly approaching the stage of begging her, as Jacobi and Maxwell come through the front door halfway through an argument about sheep.

 

“All we have is a double,” the woman says, eyes wide. “I know you asked for a-”

 

“It’s fine,” Kepler says quickly, waving a hand. “Just… hand over the key, please.”

 

Their room is blissfully easy to find, Maxwell dropping Jacobi onto the bed as soon as he’s close enough to not fall on his ass straight away. A groan escapes anyway, leaning back into the duvet and closing his eyes, all his weight supported by the bed. Kepler closes his eyes for a moment before he sighs and sits beside him, hand on his shoulder. Jacobi doesn’t react in any way that’s easily visible, but he relaxes a fraction under the touch.

 

“You know what,” Maxwell says flatly, shrugging off her shirt and letting it drop to the floor behind her, cracking her knuckles. When nobody responds, she continues anyway. “I’m so sick of the country. I want to get to an actual city.”

 

“Tough luck,” Kepler says, tapping Jacobi’s shoulder. “We’re stuck here. But we have a truck now. A… _good_ truck.”

 

“It’s just a truck,” Jacobi says. “You have all your limbs.”

 

“For the love of- Jacobi! You’ll get a new one!”

 

Kepler chuckles, lifting his hand and sitting up straight. Glaring at him, Maxwell takes a seat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and leaning her face on her arms. “He’s a whiny little bitch, sir. Plus, the two of you are disgusting. You want me to lock myself in the bathroom?”

 

A beat of silence later, Jacobi starts to laugh. “We’ll just wait until you’re asleep.”

 

Horrified, Maxwell makes a noise of disgust. Kepler only snorts, shaking his head as he toes off his shoes.

 

“Get some rest,” he says. “We have to get back by tomorrow. Cutter’s already going to skin us because we destroyed anything that could have been valuable. Neither of you are in charge if I

die, by the way. I don’t trust either of you enough, _plus_ you don’t want to deal with Cutter.”

 

“True that,” Jacobi nods. “I’ll drink to- right, no. No drinking. Sleeping?”

 

“Take the bed,” Kepler shrugs. “Maxwell, join him. I won’t be able to sleep for a while.”

 

Neither of them want to question that too much and so they just slide under the covers. Jacobi curls into Maxwell’s side, rubbing his chin against her bare shoulder and laughing breathlessly as she smacks his arm. Kepler sits on the couch, stretching out his legs and grinning over at them.

 

“Let him be proud of it, Doctor,” he chuckles. “I think he looks the part of a demolitions expert with a little stubble.”

 

“Yeah,” Jacobi says, smugly, closing his eyes and rolling over a little more so that more of his weight is on Maxwell. “Screw you, Alana, I’m an edgy guy. Super cool and all.”

 

“You’re the worst, is what you are,” Maxwell grumbles, closing her eyes. “Loser.”

 

“Jerk.”

 

“Shut _up_ ,” Kepler cuts in.

  


Maxwell wakes up alone in the morning, which isn’t unusual on a mission where she shares a bed with Jacobi. Turning to her left and squinting, she can just about make out Kepler and Jacobi on the couch. Jacobi, shirt thrown off of one shoulder, and Kepler leaning in and-

 

“Ha, uh, good morning,” she gets out hurriedly. Kepler’s head snaps up and he stares at her.

 

“Good morning, Maxwell,” Jacobi says. “Uh. Kepler and I were. Uh…”

 

“He was literally kissing your shoulder, Jacobi,” she mumbles. “When the hell did you even wake up? I was still asleep?”  
  
“It’s really easy to keep you asleep when I get out of bed,” Jacobi shrugs, cracking his neck. “Just be glad you didn’t wake up, like, ten minutes ago.”

 

Kepler pulls a face and leans back against the cushions of the couch, closing his eyes and letting out a heavy sigh as Jacobi takes the opportunity to lean against his side. It would almost be sweet, Maxwell thinks, if it had been any other two people. But it’s not, it’s _them_ , so she sticks out her tongue and presses her face back into the pillow with a groan.

 

“Do we have to go back?” she asks, vainly hoping Kepler might just say “no” and let her sleep a few hours more. Instead of a definite answer either way, he only shrugs, wrapping an arm around Jacobi and closing his eyes.

 

“Unless you want Cutter to kill us,” Jacobi mumbles. “Wait, that’s what you said, right?”

 

Kepler hums. “Something like that.”

 

Maxwell groans, sitting up in bed and yawning. “We’re hitting the road, then?”

 

“Something like that,” Kepler repeats, smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “We’ll… it’ll be alright. All we didn’t get was the data, which is _bad_ , but it was destroyed.”

 

“Which…” Maxwell trails off, running a hand through her hair. “That’s good?”

 

“That’s good,” Kepler confirms. “Jacobi, what are you doing?”

 

Jacobi doesn’t reply, busy pulling his legs up and underneath himself and pressing his face into Kepler’s side. “Nothing,” he eventually says, looking up and smiling.

 

“It’s too early for your bullshit,” Maxwell whines. “I’m going for a shower, I want food, and then we’re leaving.”

 

“That’s the plan, yes,” Kepler says. “Go shower, Maxwell.”

 

He doesn’t bother watching her get up, turning instead to Jacobi and staring at him for a moment before raising his eyebrows in a silent question. Jacobi shakes his head, quiet until Maxwell locks the door to the cramped bathroom behind her.

 

“Jacobi,” Kepler breathes. “Sit up. Look at me.”

 

“Yeah,” Jacobi says, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, sir. Kepler. Whatever we fuckin’ call you when we’re on a mission.”

 

“Jacobi. How’s, ah, the arm?”

 

“Gone. Funny, actually, it’s _totally_ gone. Almost like it’s been blown off. Twice.”

 

There’s quiet for a moment as Kepler winces, looking back to Jacobi. “You’re still here though, right? Any- any pain?”

 

Staring sullenly at the worn carpet, Jacobi kicks at it with a scowl. Kepler waits, rolling his eyes and leaning back against the wall.

 

“Feels kinda like it’s still there,” Jacobi admits, finally. “It feels like I could move it but it’s _gone._ I’m pissed at you.”

 

“Oh, you could never be pissed at _me,_ ” Kepler grins.

 

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

 

Kepler shrugs. “You’ll get over it. You always get over it.” There’s a moment of stony silence while Jacobi glares at him, scowl on his face growing angrier. Kepler rolls his eyes, standing and stretching. “Don’t complain, Jacobi. I’ll get you the best technicians Goddard have to fix it.”

 

“I’m just- I’m _sick_ of this,” Jacobi says. “I hate the whole- I’m pissed off.”

 

“I know,” Kepler says, glancing up as the bathroom door opens again and Maxwell comes out, rubbing her hair with a towel. She glances up at the two of them, blinking. “Oh, oh dear. Jacobi? You going for a shower?”

 

“I’m good, Maxwell,” he says. “Whatever. I’m getting dressed.”

 

Kepler shrugs. “We leave when I’m ready.”

 

None of them say anything more as Kepler shrugs and disappears into the bathroom. Maxwell blinks at Jacobi, before sighing. “I want coffee.”

 

“Fuck, me too.”

 

“I’m going to make coffee.”

 

Jacobi smiles at her, sliding off of the couch and kneeling in front of the suitcase and rummaging through it with one hand, pulling out a different shirt- the one with the least stains, but still somewhere close to filthy- he doesn’t give a crap. Neither him nor Maxwell give a damn about that at the best of times.

 

“Eugh, you stink,” Maxwell says with a grin. “Stinky little shit.”

 

“Fuck _off_.”

 

All it is is humour, between them. Maxwell grins at him, stirring sugar into his mug and passing it over to him. “Sweet- the exact opposite of you, huh?”

 

Jacobi grins, setting the cup down and rubbing his shoulder. “Goddamn.”

 

“It’s sore?”

 

“It feels _weird_.”

 

“Your arm- it’s gone. I’d imagine it does feel pretty-fucking-weird.”

 

Jacobi snorts, standing back up and dropping onto the couch again as Maxwell takes a seat next to him. “You good?”

 

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m great.”

 

Silence is comfortable until Kepler comes back from the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt and stretching. “Well. What are we waiting for? Let’s go, you two.”

 

The truck smells like dust and makes a horrific sound as Kepler starts it up, cracking his knuckles before he takes hold of the wheel and yawns. “Main city- Toronto. I’ll need to call Canaveral on the way.”

 

He doesn’t look thrilled by that, but the three of them know there’s nothing they can do about it. Kepler hums and pulls out of their parking spot. Jacobi leans forward and rests his arm on Maxwell’s seat, peering intently at her phone screen as she scrolls through Spotify and pulls her earphones out and puts them in.

 

“Maxwell,” he hisses. “Play something fun.”

 

“Polka.”

 

“Jesus, _no_.”

 

Kepler chuckles, turning onto the main street and staring at signs as they pass. “Polka, eh? You know… that reminds me of a story, Jacobi. Have I ever told you about the time that I was in a band?”

 

Jacobi leans back in his seat. “Uh. No, sir. No, I don’t think you have.”

 

“ _Well…_ ”

 

Jacobi sighs, closing his eyes, letting himself shuffle down in his seat and tuning out completely, only registering the last few words- “that’s why I had to walk away from my funk band.”

 

“That’s fascinating, sir,” Jacobi says, opening his eyes again and taking in the highway as they drive. “Very- it’s invigorating.”

 

“Isn’t it just,” Kepler says, smiling. “Isn’t it just a _wonderful_ story?”

 

“Definitely,” Jacobi nods. “I- I, uh, love funk. Really, really great. I love it so much.”

 

“That’s your favourite?” Kepler asks. “I’m touched, Jacobi.”

 

Jacobi rolls his eyes, leaning against the side of the door and looking out to the highway as Kepler drives. “Yeah. I bet you are.”


End file.
